Holding On and Letting Go
by Draic Kin of the Balance
Summary: Companion piece to I'll Never Let You Go. Dean is pushed to the emotional brink by Sam's death, and Charlie and Garth are immediately worried about his current state of mind as he struggles to come to terms with his brother's passing.
1. Prologue: Aftermath

**Holding On and Letting Go**

**By Draic Kin of the Balance**

* * *

"_Hello there_

_The angel from my nightmare_

_The shadow in the background of the morgue_

_The unsuspecting victim_

_Of darkness in the valley_

_We can live like Jack and Sally_

_If we want_

_Where you can always find me_

_And we'll have Halloween on Christmas_

_And in the night we'll wish this never ends_

_We'll wish this never ends_

_(I miss you)_

_(I miss you)_

_Where are you?_

_And I'm so sorry_

_I cannot sleep_

_I cannot dream tonight_

_I need somebody and always_

_This sick, strange darkness_

_Comes creeping on so haunting every time_

_And as I stared I counted_

_The webs from all the spiders_

_Catching things and eating their insides_

_Like indecision to call you_

_And hear your voice of treason_

_Will you come home_

_And stop this pain tonight?_

_Stop this pain tonight_

_Don't waste your time on me_

_You're already the voice inside my head_

_(I miss you, miss you)_

_Don't waste your time on me_

_You're already the voice inside my head_." –Blink-182, _I Miss You _

* * *

It couldn't be true. Sam wasn't dead; he _couldn't_ be dead. Not now, not after everything they'd been through together. Dean shook his head furiously, slamming the gas pedal as the Impala streaked down the road. Sam lay in the passenger seat next to him. He was so still and peaceful that he might as well have been asleep.

Dean whipped out his cell phone and speed-dialed a number. "Hey, Charlie."

"Dean, hey!" Charlie Bradbury exclaimed. "God, it's good to hear from you. How are you? How's Sam? And what the hell was with the 'meteor shower' last night?" Dean couldn't bring himself to smile or share her enthusiasm. He felt his throat close; he had to tell her about Sam. There was nobody else he could turn to. Everyone was dead: Mom, Dad, Bobby, Jo, Ellen, they were all dead. "Dean, are you there? Everything okay on your end?"

"I…" He cleared his throat before speaking again. "Can you come over, please? This isn't something that can be done over the phone, Charlie. Call Garth, too, if you can."

"Of course I will," she said. "Dean, what's going on?"

"Just come over, please," Dean said shortly. "I really can't talk about this now." He cut the connection, and punched the steering wheel in frustration. "DAMMIT!" _Don't lose it, don't lose it. You can fix this, somehow. _Sometimes, there were loopholes in even the most powerful of spells. Perhaps there was a spell or a ritual that could pullSam's soul from Heaven and bring him back. There had to be. Death, he had come to learn, wasn't always permanent.

* * *

Something was wrong, Charlie's intuition told her. Dean hadn't sounded right at all during the call, and it scared her. It had to be Sam. Something had to have happened to him. She'd read too many of the _Supernatural _novels to know why Dean would be as upset as he'd sounded. She hurried outside from her apartment and into her car, dialing Garth at the same time. It would be a long drive to Kansas.

"Hey, Garth? It's me, Charlie. Look something's gone down with Sam and Dean, I don't know what yet, but it sounds really bad. We need all the help we can get. If you can, please get your ass to Kansas as soon as you can." _Please, let Sam and Dean be okay. Please, please, please… _


	2. Planning and Denial

Dean held Sam's cold hand. It pained him, seeing his brother like this. Cold, dead, lifeless. A memory came rushing back to him – Cold Oak, seven years ago, in which Sam had been brutally stabbed to death by Jake Tally. _I went to Hell for you, Sammy, _he thought solemnly_. I'll do it again if it means bringing you back to me. _He felt tears burn in his eyes and he let them fall silently.

"Sam, Sammy," he said softly. "I don't know if you can hear me from up there, but…how's Heaven treating you? How's Bobby? How's the old man doing?" He chuckled, wiping at his tears. "It's paradise up there, isn't it? Everyone we love is there, right? I don't know if I can do this without you, man. I get why you chose to cross over, but…dammit, Sammy, I-I need you here." Dean felt a sob escape his chest, and he rested his forehead on the back of Sam's icy fingers, and silently wept.

* * *

Charlie pulled up in front of the Men-of-Letters base, the Batcave, as Dean affectionately called it. It reminded her of a hobbit hole: safe and warm, a home. Comfort. She smiled weakly at these thoughts as she climbed out of her vehicle and made her way inside. The Batcave hadn't changed at all since the last time she'd visited. _Dean's been nesting, as Sam often puts it. No wonder this place is so…clean. _

"Hey, um, Dean?" she called out. "Dean, are you here? I got your message." No response. _What the hell? _"_Dean_!" Charlie made her way upstairs; all the doors were closed but one. "Dean, what the hell is going on?" she demanded, striding into the room. "I—" She stopped herself midsentence. Dean was sitting at Sam's side, holding his hand, leaning his forehead on his fingers. His body was shaking with quiet sobs. Charlie's heart broke at the sight.

_ Sam's…dead, _she realized. Tears of her own sprang to her eyes, and she rapidly blinked them away. If Dean was falling apart, she had to be strong for him. "Dean?" she asked quietly, putting a hand on his shoulder. "Dean, I-I am so sorry." And she was. She knew how he felt. Her mother had died after she'd last visited. It had felt like someone had left a huge, gaping hole in her heart. And there was no bringing her back.

Dean turned around slowly to face her. "Hey, Charlie," he said. "I'm glad you're here." He made no effort to conceal his tears, and managed a weak, sad smile.

"Dean, what…what happened?" she asked.

"We didn't close the gates of Hell," the eldest Winchester explained. "Sam was going to die, and I…I couldn't let that happen. I couldn't lose him. The angels fell, and now that lying douchebag Metatron is hiding out up in Heaven. I got an angel to help me contact Sam, and…dammit, I tried, Charlie. I begged him to stay with me, but he'd already made his decision." He shook his head, fresh tears streaming from his eyes. "There's gotta be something. A spell, ritual, whatever – that can pull his soul back from Heaven. I've brought him back before, Charlie. There's a chance for him."

"Dean—" He couldn't do this. It wouldn't end well; hell, it never did. Dean had sold his soul for Sam all those years ago, and now, he was hell-bent on bringing him back again. _History will repeat itself if he goes through with this. _

"I need you to go through all the books you can; see if there's a spell that can bring back the dead even after they've entered Heaven," he continued on. "If not, then it's time for Plan B."

"Plan B?"

"Bargaining. I'll go to a crossroads and make another deal. I know it sounds crazy and incredibly stupid, but what else is there if there is no spell or the spell doesn't even work? I mean, this is my baby brother we're talking about here. If nothing works—"

"Dean_, no_!" Charlie yelled. "You can't sell your soul, not again! Do you remember what happened the last time that happened? You became the hellhounds' chew toy!"

"I don't give a shit what happens to me, Charlie!" Dean snapped. "If it means bringing Sam back, fine – I'll do whatever it takes!" He rose to his feet and started walking.

"Sam wouldn't want this!" she cried, following him. "Dean, you can't do this! Please, just stop!" Dean whirled on her furiously.

"You can't tell me that you want Sam back!" he shot back. "Look me in the eye and tell me you don't want to see him again!" Charlie felt hot tears streak down her cheeks; she couldn't bring herself to lie to him. She wanted to see Sam again, but it wasn't right. _What's dead should stay dead. _Sam had made his choice to die, to be at peace. Dean would stop at nothing to bring him back. "I'll be in the library." He brushed past her, storming off. Charlie pressed a hand to her mouth in an attempt to stifle a sob.

* * *

"_Hey, Garth? It's me, Charlie. Look, something's gone down with Sam and Dean, I don't know what yet, but it sounds really bad. We need all the help we can get. If you can, please get your ass to Kansas as soon as you can_." Garth couldn't help but feel a stab of worry as he made his way inside the bunker. A part of him didn't want to know what was going on, while another part of him just wanted to do all he could to help. Dean strode towards him, a determined expression written across his face.

"Dean, Dean, hey!" Garth said. "Charlie called – what's going on? Are you…okay? Is Sam okay?" Dean didn't respond. "Dude!" What was going on? He grabbed Dean by the arm, whirling him around to face him. "Dean, what the hell is going on?"

When Dean looked up at him, there was something in his eyes that ignited fear in the young hunter. It wasn't anger, but something else entirely. There was no spark of life in his eyes. He was dead inside, completely numb. "Sam's…dead," he answered, and jerked himself out of Garth's grip. "I just…"

"Oh my god, Dean. I'm so sorry," Garth managed through his shock. "Is there anything I can do to help?"

Dean was about to respond when Charlie made her way over to the two of them. Her face was streaked with tears. "Hey, Garth," she said.

"Hey, Charlie," he countered. Dean made his leave, leaving the two of them alone. "Charlie—"

"I know," she said. "It's bad, and I'm worried." She wiped her tears. "Dean, he's…he's living in denial right now. He's desperate."

"What are you saying when you say he's desperate?" Garth demanded.

"Garth, he's looking for a spell, anything, that can bring back the dead – bring their soul back from Heaven. And if that doesn't work, he's going to make another goddamned deal!" Charlie's voice was rising and on the verge of hysteria. _She's scared for Dean. _"Sooner or later, he has to realize that…that Sam's dead and he's not coming back!"

"I know," he said. "Charlie, hey. You're going to be fine – we're all going to be fine. We…we just need to help Dean get through this."

"How?" she cried. "How are we going to help him?" She was choking on her sobs, and Garth pulled her into his arms, fighting tears of his own.

"We're going to figure this all out," Garth swore to her. "I promise. You, me, and Dean. We're going to pull through this."


	3. Bargaining

Nothing. There was no spell that could bring Sam back. Not without bloody sacrifices, and Dean couldn't bring himself to massacre dozens of innocents just for the sake of his brother. He'd been looking through all the books he could find for hours at a time, and all he could find were dark rituals. Desperate as he was, he still had his moral boundaries. "FUCK!" he shouted. He chucked the book across the room in frustration. There were no other options now. Dean grabbed the keys to the Impala and ran.

* * *

It didn't take long to find the nearest crossroads, Dean was driving so fast. He was certain he was over the speed limit, but it didn't matter. Sam was all that mattered. All he wanted was to see his baby brother alive and well again. He couldn't lose Sam. Not now. _This deal is his only chance of coming back home, _he thought._ It doesn't matter how long they give me. They just have to bring Sam back. _He'd lost everyone else. Losing Sam for good…it was unfathomable. Sam was everything to him: his baby brother, his Sammy, the one thing that kept him sane. His only lifeline. He had failed to convince him to live – to live for him – and he couldn't let him go. There was still a chance – there was still hope – and he was clinging on to that hope with everything he had left in him.

Once he arrived, he rushed out of the Impala and hurriedly buried his box of personal items directly in the middle of the crossroads, his hands trembling the entire time. "Come on, you bastards! I don't have all fucking day!"

"Tsk, tsk, tsk," a female voice said condescendingly from behind him. Dean whirled to face her. "Dean Winchester. What would bring you back to make another deal?"

"Bring Sam back," Dean said firmly. "It doesn't matter how long you give me. One day, one month, one year – I don't care. Just _bring him back_. _Please_." The demon smirked at him, almost knowingly. She titled her head to the side, studying him.

"Round and round the Winchesters go," she purred. "You do realize that when your precious Sammy wakes up, he will do everything in his power to break our little contract, right?" Dean nodded, and the demon continued, "I'm in a charitable mood tonight, so I'll give you this: You get one year, and one year only. I'm sure Sammy will appreciate it. But, the main question is: Why should I go and retrieve his dear little soul for you when all you've done to him is bring him pain and misery? He's happy where he is, I bet. You are just so, so desperate to have him back that I've been thinking of – well, not going through with this deal."

"Seal the deal or I'm going to put a bullet through your skull," Dean threatened. "Just bring him back to me."

"Easy there, tiger," the demon said. "Lilith would be the one to hold our little contract, but she's dead. I'll…see what I can do for you. Now, what do you say? Want to seal the deal or just let your brother rot until he becomes nothing more than bones?" Without another word, Dean grabbed her and pulled her into a deep, savage kiss. _This is for you, Sam. _

* * *

"Dean, where the hell have you been?" Garth demanded. "Charlie and I've been calling you for the past hour or so!" A knot formed in his stomach. If Dean had done what he thought he'd done…

"Sorry. Been busy," the eldest Winchester said shortly. "I gotta go check on Sam, see if he's okay." He stalked past Garth, who followed in haste. Charlie was already in Dean's room when they arrived. "Charlie, move. He should wake up soon." Dean sat beside his brother and grasped his hand tightly. "Come on, Sammy. Open your eyes. For me. Please." He brushed a strand of Sam's hair behind his hears and pressed a kiss to his forehead. "Sammy, please. Wake up – do something, anything. Just give me a sign that you're still here, that you're still with me."

Garth and Charlie exchanged a glance of concern. Dean was falling apart at the seams; he'd gone through with a spell or a deal with a demon – that much was obvious – and Sam was still dead. Whatever he'd done, it had failed in bringing back Sam. And now, he was crumbling. It was sinking into him that Sam was dead, and he was never coming back to him. Not this time.

"Sam! Sam, don't you dare do this to me!" Dean cried, his voice trembling with tears and beginning to rise. "Wake up! You are not dead! You are not quitting on me!" His breath was coming in ragged gasps and he rose to his feet, turning to Garth and Charlie. "He's dead, guys! He's been dead this entire time, and I-I tried everything I could to bring him back! I made a deal, and…and—" Hot tears spilled from his eyes. "Oh my god. Oh my god, oh god." He shook his head, and a sob escaped his chest.

"Dean…," Charlie began. "Let us help you. We're here for you."

"How?" Dean shouted. "How the hell are you going to help me? My baby brother – he's dead! He…he's dead! Oh my god, oh my god_, nonononono_! _NO_!" He fell to his knees, clutching at his head. Agony contorted his features, tears cascading down his face endlessly. "Nonononononono, this can't be happening! Please, no!"

Charlie sank down to his level and pulled him into her arms as he sobbed. "Shhh, shhh, it's going to be okay. It's going to be okay, I promise." Tears of her own escaped from her eyes as she held Dean. "I promise. We're all going to get through this. Together." She looked up at Garth. Tears were sliding down his cheeks silently. _Come here, dude, _she mouthed to him. He complied, and it was just the three of them, lost in their grief.


	4. Epilogue: Closure

It'd been Dean's choice to give Sam a hunter's funeral. He wanted to give his brother the funeral he deserved. It wouldn't be fair to him to just let him rot in the bunker. Charlie and Garth stood beside him, tears streaming down their faces as the flames consumed Sam as he rested on the pyre. Dean took a deep, shaky breath, his vision blurred by tears.

_Goodbye, Sammy, _he thought. _I love you, little bro. _A sob rose in his chest, and he pressed a hand to his mouth to stifle it. The tears in his eyes spilled over, and he sank to his knees, sobbing into his hands. The pain was just too much to bear. He was oblivious to his friends as they embraced him.

Little did they know that, even in Heaven, Sam was watching over his big brother.


End file.
